I’m excited. I’m writing in my journal again. I’m heading to Chicago with Jacob to help setup a stronger Morning Star presence in the Midwest. The best part is that Jacob’s family is there. He had to leave them behind years ago. We’re going to save his family. I am so glad I can be a part of it.
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I was able to have Avery’s funeral three months after the desert fiasco where I was able to confirm her death. That was about four months after her mother’s funeral. I hardly remembered Heather’s funeral. It’s like I wasn’t even there. It was unreal. It was just a process of getting her in the ground, no celebration of her life. But it made sense, Avery had been still missing.
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Our trial took place down the street at someone else’s house. The place seemed normal enough considering it was government housing. It was a three bedroom and was well-kept. They sat us at an extended dining room table with six other people. Two other Morning Stars stood at the entrance of the room, armed. Joe the Barber was one of the armed men. The six sitting at the table were black, but didn’t look like stereotypical gangbangers like the others did. They looked like regular folks. They dressed like me and talked like me. Until then I’d only met Morning Stars that had looked and talked like Jacob and the two armed men standing guard. They used urban slag, worn loose clothing, and were always quick to anger.
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We surrendered ourselves to the Moring Star high counsel. Jacob called them the “higher-ups”. They told us to go back to Jacob’s home to await our trial. Jacob assured me that there was no reason to run. They would be grateful for what we did. We had created a strong connection with the Church of Scientology and the Morning Stars would be able to strengthen their numbers while keeping their family members free.
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Jacob had a contact in a satellite Scientology church. Scientology satellites brought in people by pitching a promotion for a new book call Dianetics, their version of the Bible. Once the mark was inside, the Scientologist hooked their victim to an e-meter. The meter basically tested the amount of memory loss a person had. Those with less memory loss were flagged and pushed through to the next step. People with less memory loss are more likely to not have a watcher, and therefore more likely to be susceptible to Scientology tactics. Memories hold flashes and sometimes actual sightings of angels. Scientologists exploit people who are unable to explain these angelic events.
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Jacob found out where Rohanda’s sister was taken for reintegration: The Church of Scientology.

As far as I knew, The Church of Scientology was not a church, as in a place where Christian’s worship. While their public policy was to allow their followers to continue their other religions, the Internet was full of stories about people who had experienced the opposite. Ironically, they believed all other religions were created by some higher power to falsely imprison us.
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I sat alone that night wanting sadness to overwhelm me, but it wouldn’t come. I hadn’t shed a tear for my family since I got all my memories back. My emotions went numb. I felt nothing, and after watching Rohanda in so much pain, I realized I wasn’t dealing with mine.
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One day Jacob told me the story of how he had ended up in Patricia’s basement. Jacob didn’t usually tell stories, but Rohanda had bought us some Steel Reserve. After a few, Jacob veered from his normal quiet ways.

After Jacob had snuck past the FBI encampment, he reached the nexus point with a couple of hours before dawn to spare. He had planned on waiting until dawn and my diversion, but Elliot was waiting for him, providing the necessary ingredient to call the Jinni, fire.
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